


The Ineffable Future

by memelessness



Series: Good Omens Short Stories [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Future, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Oneshot, Short, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 12:24:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19209379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memelessness/pseuds/memelessness
Summary: 10,000 years…10,000 years have gone by since Eden. 10,000 years since he had given his sword to Adam… 10,000 years since he had met Crowley…Aziraphale stared out the window, nearly clutching to a scroll before remembering its value. He watched the flaming ball of rock alone, watching little sparks of white appear in the background. Armageddon happened after all, though it did seem far more anticlimactic than expected. It was a solar flare, actually. He had watched it happen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a concept idea (because words cannot explain my love for space)

10,000 years…

10,000 years have gone by since Eden. 10,000 years since he had given his sword to Adam… 10,000 years since he had met Crowley…

Aziraphale stared out the window, nearly clutching to a scroll before remembering its value. He watched the flaming ball of rock alone, watching little sparks of white appear in the background. Armageddon happened after all, though it did seem far more anticlimactic than expected. It was a solar flare, actually. He had watched it happen.

Crowley stepped into the observatory. He wore a wifebeater, leather jacket held precariously in his arms (he was still a snake after all, and when you shove a bunch of human beings into a metal box, it was awfully hard to regulate temperature). His skin cooled as the door shut behind him, sweat being wicked away.

“They got their war.” Aziraphale spoke impassively, eyes all but glazed over. He didn’t need to turn around. He knew the demon had been there.

Crowley sat beside them with a strained sigh, the wreckage of Earth reflecting in his sunglasses, “They got their war.” He watched Aziraphale out of the corner of his eye, not sure at all what to say.

“At least humanity’s okay.” The angel spoke hesitantly before noticing the other’s gaze, setting the scroll to the side, “I… Don’t worry, I’m quite ‘over it.’” A blatant lie.

For the past week (before everyone in every country was forced onto these human space crafts), Aziraphale had sorted which of his books deserved to be rescued. Everyone was required one luggage bag, and the angel had been far too honest to just miracle everything onto the ship (there was also the fear that an archangel or two would discorporate them both before the oncoming war). Crowley happily sacrificed his own, but it still hadn’t been enough.

The demon placed a hand onto the other’s thigh. Aziraphale hunch over (very unlike him), holding his face in his hands. He wasn’t crying, just angry. 

“I mean… it’s better than dying…” He attempted to bargain with himself, not quite realizing himself that he’d been grieving.

“I… uh…” Crowley reached into his jacket, tapping his long fingers against a glass screen, “I know it’s not the same, but I wanted to give you this.” He handed Aziraphale a tablet, turning the screen on for him.

The angel sat up slowly, blankly staring at the monitor before him. After seemingly forever, he conceded, thumbing through the titles.

The tablet held an extensive catalogue, organized alphabetically by author (though the sorting options said “manual.”). His eyes brightened just a little bit at all the familiar titles. Of course it wasn’t the same, but at least he still had them. He opened one, recognizing the coffee stain. These weren’t just his books; they were _his_ books! Perfectly scanned in every detail!

“C-Crowley… I…” He covered his mouth, tears attempting to fight him. They’d already stained his face red without even falling, “How did you- when did you-“ He couldn’t find his words. He was just… stunned.

Crowley reached over to find his angel’s shoulder, pressing their temples together as he focused outside the widow, “We both knew humans wouldn’t stay on Earth forever.” He spoke calmly, running his hand in gentle circles against Aziraphale’s still-rigid back, “And I had some time to kill.”

Aziraphale focused a bit on the last comment, quickly wiping away his tears, “W-wait. Crowley, how long did this even take?” 

“’S not important.” The demon shrugged, ruffling the other’s beautiful, golden, curly hair between his fingers.

A tear finally escaped him, landing square in the center of the tablet. The angel struggled to fight back a whole dam’s worth of tears, irises all but wobbling as all his attention focused on the one he loved most.

“Thank you.” He spoke quietly, leaning his head against his demon’s shoulder to watch the apocalypse. He’d glace at the tablet every-once-in-a-while, double checking everything. Even his new purchases from the last decade were completely, perfectly, copied over. This had to have taken centuries! But he just relished in the heavy, warm, happy feeling that resided in his chest. 

“Do you remember that gelato place in Austria?” Aziraphale held the tablet close to his chest, attempting to break the deafening silence.

“The one that served blood orange.” Crowley chuckled quietly, wrapping his arm around his angel’s waist.

“And the Ritz…”

“And crepes.”

A smile flickered against Aziraphale’s face once more, “The _best_ crepes.” He spoke breathlessly, leaning further into his forever, “I’m sorry. About your Bentley, I mean…”

Crowley hesitated for a moment, winding his fingers into golden curls, “’S not important. Better than being discorporated.” He leaned his head to rest on top of those wonderful ringlets, “I’d much rather see you happy anyway.” And at least Aziraphale’s books had been far easier than a full-on car. No matter the circumstance, Crowley was never going to be able to bring that damned car with him, and he accepted that.

And that’s when Aziraphale found many books he had sworn he’d never owned, “I… uh…” He muttered quietly, looking over one of the newer stories. Unlike the directly scanned books, these had been downloaded directly from the internet. They were far much easier to read, “I think I’d much like to lay down for a bit.” A smile was plastered to his face as he quickly turned off the screen and stood up. And Crowley, of course, followed his angels lead.

It had been required that there’d be two people per room. Aziraphale and Crowley had been given a room with a twin-sized bunk bed. The top bunk, of course, was used to hold their luggage bags (as well as some rations they’d try to sneak back into storage when no one was looking). And as Crowley took a nap with nose pressed into the nape of his angel’s neck, Aziraphale stayed awake, a halo of light surrounding him as he indulged himself to the start of a new story.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to make the first chapter be it, but then I went to sleep... but this is definitely it. I don't have anything in this concept fleshed out enough to make a full-on story without being ridiculous

When you put a bunch of humans into a giant, metal box, they tend to get very bored. Children tried to start games of tag with each other. Parents tried to rally their children to keep them from bothering other bored humans. And after the first week, giant towers of Aluminium foil stacked upon each other. It originally made people confused (it took a few days for anyone to pick one up). See, the ship had a rather large kitchen (fit to keep humanity up for another millennia), but no cooking was happening until they had crops (2nd floor).

Aziraphale was intrigued when a young man picked up a box for himself, taking great care in folding and polishing a small, foil bird. It was something right up the angel’s alley! So he sat Crowley down at a bench and attempted to create something out of the flimsy metal.

His first attempt was just a very jagged ball, rough in all its edges (which it was definitely not supposed to have). He was very disappointed in himself, but he tried again. The next day, more people had filled the cafeteria for their crafts. Little kids were scribbling over scraps of paper. A middle-aged man folded a very, seemingly-realistic rose to give to his wife.

Crowley got bored, watching Aziraphale’s hands (he’d usually taken great care of them, but now they were covered in tiny cuts and dusted with a silvery finish). The demon let out a sigh, slumping his shoulders as he eyed the ball of metal.

“What’s your fascination in this anyway, Angel.” He muttered under his breath, long fingers tapping against the exceedingly cold table.

Aziraphale shrugged at the thought, eyes trying to meet Crowley’s through his sunglasses, “Well, it’s fun!” His expression brightened, a slight pink tinting his cheeks.

The demon smiled very slightly, failing to maintain his composure (because after all these years, the angel still made him very flustered), “I.. ah… s-so whatchamaking!” He spoke a little quickly, trying the removing the focus from himself.

“I…” Aziraphale spoke hesitantly, looking between the crumpled foil and his favored. He tossed the jagged ball to the side, grabbing a new piece of foil, “Don’t look.” He grumbled, pushing a hand into Crowley’s face.

“Az, what in nine hells ‘r you-“ Crowley recoiled (very snakelike) to his loved one’s touch.

“Shshhhssh.” The angel gently tapped the other’s cheek, some of the metallic film transferring on touch, “Don’t look.”

Arizaphale wasn’t one to brag, but he was pretty good at origami (when it was on paper and hadn’t been much more complicated than a crane). He tried to form the foil into a perfect square before anything else.

Crowley tried to see what the angel had been making, only to keep getting his face pushed once more. He finally huffed under his breath, trying desperately to rub the silvery finish away from his face.

It took the angel a couple of attempts, shredding the monstrosity before setting it to the side and trying again. It started getting late though. People were beginning to leave, exchanging their love gifts. A pair of children were excitedly handing their drawings to a mother that tried to balance a crying baby in one arm. Crowley sneered, lifting a finger and the baby quickly fell asleep. The mother all but melted by the sudden relief. 

Covering up his work, Aziraphale watched Crowley with a very squishy smile.

“What?” The demon furrowed his brow, trying to look over the angel’s arm with no luck, “It was loud.”

“Sure it was.” Aziraphale mused, working on the final touches, “Here you go, Dear.” He passed over the little metal gift.

Crowley accepted happily, examining every inch. It was a little flat car, little indents to show the windows and wheels.

“It’s… supposed to be your Bentley.” The angel beamed (though it looked a lot like a Buggy rather than a Bentley). He looked away sheepishly, “T-though, I’m sure its not quite the same.”

“Nah.” Crowley pressed his forehead against the others, cupping both cheeks in his hands, “’S perfect.”

They looked around. Two girls watched them happily, quickly returning to their conversation upon eye contact. There was also an old man who was obviously jonesing for a smoke that just gave the couple an angry glare.

Crowley grabbed onto Aziraphale’s hands, pressing their palms against his lover’s face. The angel huffed, torn between laughter and just being flat-out furious as his beautiful face was now covered in silvery hand-prints.

“C-Crowley! How could you!” He tried to appear beyond angry, but his frown kept breaking from excited chuckles.

The demon stood up, fiddling with the little car between his fingers. He smiled to the angel, _his_ angel, pulling them up from the beyond uncomfortable bench, “Thanks, Angel.” He spoke quietly into their ear, running his fingers through glorious curls as he planted a kiss against his forever’s temple.


End file.
